


Lost and Found

by jayskee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6551218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayskee/pseuds/jayskee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dave needs to get his shit together and Karkat is an exasperated boyfriend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

Rooming with Dave, there were certain things you had come to expect upon your return from class. Most days it was the blond in question loafing on the chaise lounge, headphones on or remote in hand, perusing the entirety of Netflix and the internet for something to watch. Some days he was at his turntables, hard at work on an assignment or chasing whatever wayward muse had tickled his fancy.

And then there were days like today, where opening the door to your shared campus apartment revealed him on his knees, cheek to the carpet.

The look you shoot him is flat, and so are your words, “You lost something again.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Dave mumbles, stretching his arm to sweep whatever he could reach out from under the couch, “That self-proclaimed impeccable intuition of yours is totally false advertised, it’s gettin’ pecked at like grain in a hen house, dude, what could possibly have led you to believe that I–” He trails off to sneeze, apparently the dust bunnies didn’t appreciate his arm sweep, “–That I lost something?”

You shut the door behind you and sling your backpack off your shoulder, “Usually when you’re on your knees when I get home, it means one of two things, and considering the windows are still open, it’s probably not the former,” You explain as you grab a water bottle from the mini-fridge. You look up just in time to catch Dave wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you snort, “You’re so full of shit.”

“No, I’m full of the ripest agony,” He exclaims, sitting back on his haunches and taking a look around, “The highest quality dismay all up in this fruity noggin,” You lean against the doorway, knowing he’ll get sick of ranting eventually, “Getting harvested and juiced to be bottled and sold to the unsuspecting masses, smaller businesses can’t compete, get shut down and create more miserable minds for the collecting until it takes over the world as we know it,” He lays back on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, “Goodbye sweet Karkat, remember me as I was.”

You let a few beats of silence pass before you move to his side, leaning over him and effectively taking up his line of sight, “Finished?" 

"For now.”

“Good.” You pass him the bottle, then offer your empty hand and pull him to his feet.

He looks for a second like he’s going to crumple back to the floor, but instead, Dave shakes his head, disapproving. “Look at me,” He gestures to himself with the bottle, “What’s wrong with this picture?” A rhetorical question, you think. He looks like he always does, standing six inches shorter than you, sporting a head of curly blond hair and a paint-speckled hoodie that he swam in (and rightfully so, it belonged to you, damn it). His ever-present listening devices hung limply around his neck, his even more frequently present aviators are pushed to his hairline, and you’re at a loss.

You sit down on the couch and pull your bag onto your lap, “You mean, other than the usual?” He answers you with an expectant nod, “And other than the fact that you haven’t left for class yet?”

That gets to him. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a little whine, “That’s the thing, man, I can’t go to music theory without my music!”

Your brows furrow, “You lost your MP3 player?”

“Nope,”

“Your phone?

“God, no.”

“Your…” You scour your mind for anything else he uses to play music, “Laptop?”

“Getting colder, Kit-Kat,”

“Just fucking tell me already!”

“My ear buds, babe, the limited edition baby pink Nicki Minaj ones you got me–”

You’re not sure if you want to kiss him or flick his forehead. “Dave.”

“–I considered using my old ones but they’re such shitty quality in comparison, y’know? Can’t be gettin’ my learn on without them, not to mention they’re all hells of special–”

“Shut up for a second and tell me you checked your neck.”

He looks at you like you’ve said something absurd, “My neck? Of course I checked babe I’m no amateur to this,”

Your internal scale tips that much further towards flicking him as you flip his hood up and pull the ear buds in question from the fabric, “Then these are obviously the making of some bizarre waking fever dream and not the prized buds in question, aren’t they,”

Dave blinks in surprise, and you note with a bit of satisfaction that his smile is sheepish, “Absolutely, it’s all in your head. Now if you’re all done taking up my time with your deluded ramble about ear buds that were definitely not around my neck for the past hour, I’ve gotta get to class,” He’s been inching closer and closer to the door, “Maybe some rest and a hot shower will help you get your head on straight, yeah? I expect to see a net full of Z’s when I get back,” He shoots you a quick two-fingered salute and slips out the door.

You stare after him, then glance at the coffee table where Dave’s car keys remained untouched. In preparation, you pick them up and stand by the door, “Three, two, one…”

The door swings open again and Dave all but walks into your chest. Wordlessly, you dangle the keys for him to take. He thanks you with a kiss, “You’re the best, babe.”

You smile back, “I know. Now get your ass in gear before you’re late. Again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a bad habit I have of losing things that're two feet in front of me, oops.


End file.
